


24-Hour Diner

by sara_no_h



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_no_h/pseuds/sara_no_h
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That one time two ex-assassins, Captain America, and Sam Wilson took a table at a 24-hour dinner after saving the world from a Hydra threat. No one thanks them, but then no one tells them to leave the establishment either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	24-Hour Diner

_Thursday Morning_

_1:34 A.M_

They looked a right mess as they trudged into the too-bright establishment causing heads to swivel. Steve knew it was bad when he saw most of the patron’s double take and then outright stare. He felt Bucky stiffen beside him before Natasha placed a reassuring hand on his leather clad arm.

“Let’s grab a table,” Sam said, eyeing an empty booth at the far end. He tried to hide the fact that he was limping.

Steve followed and felt a dull throb of pain as he sat next to Sam. Before him, Natasha slid into the booth slowly, barely disgusting a wince as a grim looking Bucky joined her.  

Sam groaned, head coming to rest on the table before him. “It hurts to sit.”

“Be grateful it doesn't hurt to breath,” Natasha whispered.  She shifted her arms to better accommodate her bruised body.

Leaning back Steve caught Bucky’s eye and knew his friend was thinking it too. The four of them looked like they had been dragged through a ringer. None of them were fully dry and he knew each one of them had at least a fracture if not something broken. They smelled of smoke and chemicals with names that Steve had never even imagined were possible.

However, it was the cuts and blood stains on their persons that would not be ignored, even by the most understanding of 24-hour diner customers.

He saw the waiter's eyeing their table and tried to send out an innocent smile, but he knows it looks forced when he heard Bucky snort in disbelief.

 “I’ll be surprised if they don't call the cops,” Bucky said.

“They won't call the cops,” Steve replied, watching Bucky’s glove covered hand brush aside tangled and too long hair. There was a flash of silver before the arm was tucked to his side once again.

Steve mentally sighed, checking his watch only to see that it was filled with liquid. So much for twenty-first century technology and its guaranteed promise of ‘water proof.’  It didn't matter anyways. They only needed to wait for a few minutes. If they got a little substance into them it wouldn't hurt.  

Sam mumbled from his slouched position, “I’m sure they've seen worse.”

“Our contact’s going to be here soon.” Natasha said, shifting her gaze to the slits in the blinds. 

A brave waiter approached their table, only lifting an eyebrow at their torn clothing. He was an older man and smelled faintly of grease. Steve could tell by the lines echoing his face that he had seen things, then again working at a 24-hour diner on the outskirts of Brooklyn guaranteed that you would see some _things._  

“Are you guy’s cosplayer’s or somethin’?”

Steve closed his eyes but it did nothing to stop the pained expression. “No.”

Greasy waiter eyed the torn blue vest with the dirt smeared star emblem. “I mean you could pass for Captain America, son.”

Steve did not have to open his eyes to feel the weight of four different gazes.

There was a beat of silence.

“Of course Captain America’s taller.” Greasy waiter tapped his pen against the pad. Steve didn't know if the man was back tracking but he’s grateful for the out.

“What’ll it be, folks?”

“Four Coffee’s.” Steve started.

“Regular or Decaf,” greasie waiter asked, pen scratching.

Bucky frowned. “What’s decaf?”

“Just regular.” Steve cut in, smiling as greasy waiter shot him an odd look.

Sam’s head rolled on the table to look at the man. “I could use a burger.”

Steve’s mouth began to water at the thought. “You know, I’ll take one as well.”

“Me too.” Bucky said, watching the pen in the waiter's hand scribbling away.

“Yeah, give me one as well.” Natasha contributed, not turning from the window. It was for the better, she had a gash under her left eye that looked questionable.

“That everything then?”

“Can I get a strawberry shake?” Sam asked, scratching at a cut on his jawline.

Natasha turned to glared at him.

Sam’s face turned sheepish. “Better not.”

Greasy waiter shifted, grounding himself at the head of their table. “So four regular coffees and four burgers then?”

“Yep.”

“Cheese?”

Natasha shot the poor underpaid waiter a withering glare that had made Hydra agent's falter less than an hour previously. “Just leave.”

Steve watched the man scuttle away before he felt Sam lean back in their booth.

“You three should have changed out of those,” Sam said, guesting to their uniforms. What was left of them anyways.

Natasha eyed Sam’s civilians, a stark contrast to her clothing of choice. “It’s not like secret laboratories have clothes lying around for people who blow them up.”

Sam shrugged and then groaned, hand coming to massage his fractured shoulder. “It be nice though, huh?”

Their coffee arrived and the four of them took to sipping the dark liquid, a comfortable silence settling over their table. The smell of grilling burgers made Steve salivate as the quiet sounds of the diner filled the restaurant. He looked to his ragtag group, each one of them battered but alive. They had made it this far and now they had Bucky.

He eyed him now and felt warmth that has nothing to do with the boiled liquid he was drinking. Bucky remembered.  It was far from perfect but his Bucky _remembered_ him. The one person who fully understood Steve Rogers was alive and at his side. However, to say that the other’s reappearance was a surprise would be a vast understatement.

The Winter Soldier had kept himself hidden, fading away as the metaphorical illusion that they claimed him to be. Steve had never given up hope. On the long months that followed the collapse of S.H.I.L.E.D. he’d never stopped looking. In the meantime he took what he could, tearing apart the remnants of Hydra.  It wasn't until he, Sam, and Natasha had been infiltrating a particular Hydra laboratory that they had found themselves face to face with the familiar assassin.

Sam and Natasha had approached him, guns at the ready and faces blank, they could not fully identify who they were dealing with; it was either the Soldier or the warped mind of Sergeant James Barnes.

Steve couldn't do that, though. He allowed his shield to go slack at his side and met the blue eyes of his oldest friend. His face was no longer a blank mask of the machine. No, Steve saw anger and pain; however, it was what was hidden beneath those overflowing emotions that made his breath catch; guilt.

As he approached the too tense man he could only watch as the soldier fell to his knees; expression, like his body, crumbling. Words poured from Bucky’s cracked lips that made the Captain’s breath catch.

He remembered.

He remembered _everything._

Bucky had laughed then, a broken and choked off sound that had sent a chill through the room.

Behind him, Natasha and Sam exchanged looks; they knew the signs. Bucky was wrecked. 

In the too quiet room Bucky told them to kill him. They should kill, he said, help silence the ghost’s that lingered in his mind. Help him to end the screams and take away the blood.

Steve had helped Bucky's gaze then, seeing the fragmented man before him. 

With heaving sobs Bucky had said, “All those lives I've taken, you can’t come back from that.”

It was then that Natasha appeared at Steve's side. Together they silenced the broken man’s claims and told him about Department X and the experiments that Bucky had been forced to endure. They explained that the longer The Winter Soldier had been out of cryogenic stasis the more he, Bucky, would remember. They went on to tell him that it was the very serum the Hydra scientist had used to enhance the Sergeant that healed the loss of the mind wipes.  The more the damaged cells repaired themselves the more memories would return to Bucky.

The Winter Soldier had taken those lives not James Barnes. It was what others had done. Giving missions and using Bucky’s body as a tool, to create the automaton of The Winter Soldier.

What Bucky was seeing was the Soldiers memories.

Steve could only imagine the horrors of those surfacing recollections and that is why he had been searching these last months for his friend. Bucky didn't have to hide anymore, not when it wasn't his fault. It never was.

Just as the kneeling man had been about to respond the Hydra base had gone into lockdown and all hell had broken loose. The four of them had managed to claw their way out, but not for lack of injury.

So now here they were now, a rundown 24-hour diner on the outskirts of Brooklyn, waiting for the pick-up that would take them to a secure location, where they could receive medical attention and sanctuary. Natasha hadn't mentioned to their contact about the fourth member, but then Steve thought it was better he explained the situation in person.

Suddenly, Natasha turned to address the group. “Our rides here.”

“You sure this is safe?” Sam asked seeing the way Bucky’s shoulders had stiffened at the prospects of another handler.

Steve saw the diner door open and felt a genuine smile slip over his face. He turned and met Bucky’s questioning gaze. “Yeah, completely trustworthy.  He’s mostly a fan anyways.”

The ex-assassin tilted his head at that, but steeled his face as a man in a black suit appeared at the head of their booth.

“Hello, Captain Rodgers, Romanova has advised me that you were in need of a pick-up,” Phil Coulson said. His eyes lingered on the messy haired soldier. “I was told there were three individuals.”

Natasha folds her hand on the table. “Change of plans.”

The former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent lowered his tone. “He hasn’t been cleared.”

“I’ve been ‘cleared?’” Sam’s face was questioning.

Bucky physically slumped and Steve felt his throat tighten at the sight. “He’s with me. Where I go, he’s coming too.”

Natasha was eyeing Coulson before she snorted in disgust. “Please, Stark will take anyone in. He’s collecting the damaged ones.”

“Stark? As in Tony Stark? The guy with the suits and tower?” Sam asked, excitement slipping into his voice.

Coulson didn't get to answer because his focus had settled on Bucky. Steve saw the moment the recognition crossed the older man’s face and felt panic shoot up his spine. He caught Bucky’s wide eyed gaze and tried to sent his friend reassurance. Bucky was not taking it well. Steve knew he had to intervene before the diner was sent into some kind of lockdown or, God forbid, a shootout.

They weren't the only two who felt the shift, though.

Natashas voice was tight. “Coulson.”

Phil took a step back from the table, eyes rounded and mouth falling open.

“Hey, man, it’s not like that,” Sam paused, scrambling, “anymore.”

“Phil.” The agent turned to Steve. “Please, hear me out.”

Coulson’s gaze jumped back to Bucky before shaking his head slowly. “He can’t be here.”

Steve’s voice was steady, command laced into the tone. “Well, he is.”

“You’re-” he started.

Bucky paled, voice falling to a pained whisper. “Please, I’m...”

The words came out in a boisterous rush. “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107. A legacy. A Howling Commando and Captain Rogers’ right hand man and childhood friend.” Phil took a moment to breathe before shooting out his hand.

Startled, Bucky jolted away, expecting something far more dangerous.

Undeterred and beaming Coulson stated: “It’s an honor, sir.”

Bucky gawked at the offered hand.

Natasha shared a stunned look with Sam.

“Burgers,” Steve cut in, but he failed to bring everyone's everyone’s attention away from the moment.

The same waiter, ladled down with four plates, looked to the man in the pristine suit before carefully placing the dishes on the table top. He did not acknowledge the fact that the messy haired guy in leather looked like some kind of frightened dog that had been backed into a corner, nor did he bat an eye at the way the red head woman inspected her burger with a clinical strategy. He certainly was not going to comment on wanna be Captain America's forced creepy smile. Greasy waiter just slipped the bill on the table and walked around the still outstretched hand of the other creepy grinning man in the suit.

Greasy waiter just wasn't paid enough to care.  

**Author's Note:**

> Written in a flash. No beta. No purpose but to see Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha crammed into a diner booth and looking a hot mess. Also, surprise fangirl!Coulson for reasons.


End file.
